Figaro
by Fanfictions4everscar
Summary: Once upon a time in a far off land, a girl named Figaro just wanted to be loved. She has to go through an abusive father and two owners to achieve what she wants. But finally. Finally she feels like she's wanted. Figaro is my OC who's the counterpart of Disney's Figaro, Ella Enchanted, and the featherduster from Beauty and the Beast. Mostly ReginaxOC.
1. Chapter 1

"Mr. Gold?" I called, wandering into his shop. A few moments later, he emerged from the backroom.

"Ah, yes. Katrina," he greeted, "How may I help you?"

I shifted my weight and avoided eye contact as I cleared my throat.

"Could you please let me pay this month's rent a little later? I'm running low on cash," I muttered nervously.

"I'm afraid not, dear," he answered, walking around his counter until he stood directly in front of me, "If I did that for you, the others would expect the same treatment."

"Please, Mr. Gold," I whispered, finally looking up at him, "I don't have anything to pay you with this month."

"Then you'll be evicted. I'm sorry, Kat, but there's really nothing I can do."

"I'll make a deal with you," I begged, "I'll do anything! That apartment has been my home for as long as I can remember. I have nowhere else to go!"

"I'm closing up the shop now, Kat," Gold told me sympathetically, "Enjoy your last few nights in your apartment."

As tears bit at the corners of my eyes, I turned from him and fled out into the night.

Figaro had been running from her old, drunken father for almost two weeks. She'd left abruptly and only brought a loaf of bread with her. She hadn't eaten for days. She hadn't thought it through very well, but all she truly cared about was escaping another lashing for no reason. Her father simply liked to have power over her. It didn't matter; she'd never have to see him again anyway.

She walked through the woods, holding her stomach. Figaro knew there were a lot of people who were hungrier than she was, but that didn't stop the pain. Her auburn hair was greasy, and her usually milky skin was caked in mud. The girl was tired, hungry, parched, and unbelievably sore.

Figaro didn't think she'd make it much longer, but then she spotted something through the trees. Squinting, she could see something that looked like a castle. The young girl used what strength she had left to make it to the front doors of the palace. Before she could knock on the heavy, wooden door, her knees weakened, and she fell to the ground.

'This is it,' she thought, her vision blurring, 'I'm going to die here, and nobody is even going to notice for days.' But then the doors swung open, and she came face to face with a red, leather boot.

"My, my," an impish voice sang, "What have we here? What's your name, dearie?"

"Figaro," she panted, eyes fluttering closed in exhaustion.

"Rumplestiltskin," she heard before slipping into subconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

I walked across the street to my apartment building. Well, I guess it wouldn't be mine once the month was over. I began to panic. Where would I go? I didn't have enough money to pay for anything besides the bare minimum of food. I couldn't get a job because none I knew of were available. It was as if I were meant to do something, so fate was keeping me away from everything else.

My deep, troubled thoughts were interrupted by a bright, yellow car driving down Main Street. I paused to watch it roll by and park by the clock tower. It was a chilly night, but I needed a diversion from my problems, so I walked over. People didn't usually come to Storybrooke, and my interest was piqued.

"Hey," I greeted as I approached the car. A blonde woman, who appeared to be a little older than me, climbed out of the driver's seat.

"Hey," she returned coldly, "I was wondering-."

"Hi, Kat!" a more familiar voice called out. I looked to the other side of the car and saw Henry Mills.

"Henry? What are you doing here?" I asked, "Where's your mother?"

"Right here," he told me, grinning and pointing to the blonde. I knew Henry from seeing him around town, but I'd never spoken to Regina, his adoptive mother. In fact, I actively avoided her. I'd heard pretty bad stories about her. Not to mention that Henry thought she was the evil queen in the fairy tale land he thought we were all from. One thing I did know about her, though, was that she was very protective of Henry.

"Well," I began, turning back to the blonde, "if he's missing, I know Regina will be looking for him. Her house is up on Mifflin Street. She's number one-oh-eight. You can't miss it. Mayor's house is the biggest one on the block."

"You're the mayor's kid?" the blonde asked Henry incredulously before turning to me, "Thanks. I'm Emma, by the way."

"Katrina, but I go by Kat."

She nodded before climbing back in the car with Henry. Once they were gone, I turned and went back to the apartment building. I walked up to my room and shut the door behind me. Sighing, I glanced around at what little possessions I had. A tattered mattress rested in the corner and a little table stood next to it with my precious necklace on it.

The necklace was a black choker that looked like a fancy collar. It had diamonds in it and was probably very valuable. But I couldn't sell that. I couldn't remember where it had come from, but I'd always had it. And I couldn't explain, but it meant so much to me. I'd rather lose my home than lose my necklace. If I were kicked out, at least I would still have my collar.

Figaro woke up on a cold, stone floor. She felt less exhausted, but still dirty and starved. She sat up, ignoring the sharp pain in her abdomen.

"Rumplestiltskin!" she tried to yell, but it came out as a strangled croak. It didn't seem to matter, though, because the door to the musty room opened in seconds and Rumple swaggered in. Figaro could only watch as he crouched next to her.

"I need food and water."

"So demanding," he chided, "How about we make a deal first?"

Figaro knew it would be a mistake, but what real choice did she have? She was desperate and willing to do anything. The girl nodded reluctantly, and Rumple squealed with delight.

"What do you want?"

"I'll provide you with whatever you need be it clothing, food, water, shelter, security, or…anything else. All I ask in return is that you do whatever I say when I say it. No excuses, no stalling. If you're good, you'll be rewarded, but if you break our deal, I'll kick you back out on the streets, dearie."

She hesitated for only a moment.

"Deal."


	3. Chapter 3

Warning: This chapter contains dub-con sexual activities. It goes into minor detail, but you've been warned. If you don't like this sort of thing, don't read it.

I sat on the window ledge of my loft, looking out over the small town. My eyes wandered from Gold's shop across the street to Granny's café down the road to the clock tower in the middle of the city. The clock hadn't moved for as long as I'd lived in Storybrooke, but the other day, the day Emma came to town, it finally did. I watched it for a while, wondering what caused it to suddenly leap to life. My eyes tracked the ticking hands as if in a trance when my door burst open. I jumped and whipped my head towards the intrusion.

"Mr. Gold!" I exclaimed, scrambling to my feet, "The month's rent isn't due until next week!"

"I know," he replied, closing the door behind him, "That's not why I'm here. I'm here to help you."

I didn't reply but tilted my head in interest.

"You want a job, do you not?" he continued.

"I do, but I can't find one. Everywhere I've looked had no positions available."

"There's one available at the shop. You can have it."

"Why would you do that for me?"

"Well, dear, I really have no desire to kick you out on the streets. Besides, I'm looking for someone to help me out around the shop. In exchange for you services, I will feed you and clothe you in addition to waiving your monthly payment. But you have to earn it. If you don't do a good job, I will fire and evict you."

I stared back in shock.

"That's very…generous. Especially for someone who didn't seem interested in helping me two days ago," I retorted.

"Do you want the job or not, dear? Because I can find someone else very easily."

"No! I'll take it. Thank you," I said quickly.

He nodded before throwing a pile of clothes at me. They were clean and nice. I hadn't seen clothes like these before.

"For tomorrow. Show up presentable. I can't have you representing my shop looking like…that," he explained, grimacing at my dirty clothes and matted hair.

"Yes, Sir," I answered dryly.

"Good girl," he smirked. Then he moved to pat my head but paused and thought better of it. "Once you've washed your hair," he muttered, turning to the door, "Tomorrow at seven. I wouldn't be late on your first day if I were you. It makes a bad impression."

Figaro sat at the end of the table. The room was empty, but she still knew better than to sit in Rumplestiltskin's seat. So, she sat at the other end of the long table, dipping her chunk of bread into some stew. It was the end of another long day filled with back-breaking work, but she didn't regret the deal.

When she'd met Rumple a month ago, she looked less than desirable. She had been nothing more than a disgusting, half-dead peasant. Road-kill, Rumple had called her.

Now, her black hair had been trimmed and neatly pulled into a French braid. Her skin was clear and looked like velvet. She had been giving a short, black and white dress with a corset around the waist, kept fresh through the use of magic. The French maid outfit showed off more skin than she ever would have left exposed before, but she'd gotten used to it. The outfit was the only one her Master had ever provided her with, and she never felt the need to ask for another. She was well-fed and healthy. Figaro hardly had anything to complain about.

She had finished her chores late that night. The nearby clock informed her that it was a little after eleven-thirty, but the windows never told her what time it was because they were covered by heavy curtains. The last time Figaro had truly seen the sunlight was right before she blacked out on the palace's front steps.

"Still awake, dearie?" Rumple's voice sounded, bringing her out of her thoughts. She glanced at him as he appeared in his seat at the end of the table. Without answering, she looked down and continued eating.

"It's late," he went on, pointing at her playfully, "You should be in bed."

"I'm having dinner," she muttered.

"Yes, I can see that. I'm not blind."

She rolled her eyes.

"Saw that too."

Figaro often ignored him. Their deal never said they had to be friends. Only that she obeyed his commands, which she did. She quickly finished the last of her soup and got up.

"Come here," Rumple ordered. She clenched her jaw before taking a few steps towards her Master.

"No. Crawl."

Immediately, she dropped to her knees, though her cheeks heated in humiliation. She tried to ignore the fact that her skirt wasn't covering anything as she crawled the remaining distance to him.

"Good girl," he praised, patting her head. She snarled but remained at his feet, "You've been doing such a good job that I think it's time you got a reward."

Figaro looked up at him with murderous eyes but said nothing as he stroked her cheek. Al he had to do was command her to do something, and she'd have no choice but to obey.

"Don't you agree?" he prompted.

"No."

"I think you do," he taunted, standing up and circling her, "When we made our deal, I told you I'd take care of all your needs, dearie, and I believe carnal desire is one of those needs."

"I don't want that fulfilled by you. Besides, I'm not even aroused."

"Not yet," he sang, kneeling behind her and admiring her thong, which was exposed due to the shortness of her skirt, "because the body doesn't always agree with the mind. Whatever you tell yourself in that pretty, little head of yours won't keep you from wanting _anything_ to ease the aching you'll soon feel at your core."

Figaro squirmed away from the hand that was now inching up the inside of her thigh.

"Hold still, dearie."

Her body immediately became immobile. She bit her lip but could no longer escape his hand, which was currently caressing her behind. Rumple suddenly grabbed her panties and pulled up on them until a loud tear filled the room. Whimpering, Figaro turned her head to watch as her Master stuffed the thong in his pocket. She was completely bare to him, but what was worse was that she was beginning to feel a stir in the pit of her stomach. She knew it wouldn't be too long before it became visible.

"Get up on the table," Rumple ordered. Without hesitation, she climbed onto the table she'd just been eating off of. She sighed when she felt his hands on her again, easing her legs apart, "I told you, dearie. The body doesn't listen to the mind. You may not want this, but your body certainly does."

He ran an index finger over her wet slit, and she mewled. Smirking, Rumple slid a finger inside her and earned a strangled moan.

"Master," she whispered, unsure whether she wanted his finger in or out, "please."

"Please, what?" he taunted, slipping a second finger in. Figaro whimpered, forgetting what she was asking for. Her plea was ignored anyway as Rumple crooked his fingers to stroke her g-spot.

"Relax, kitty," he ordered, circling his thumb over her clit. Unable to disobey her Master's command, she relaxed into his touch and let herself enjoy the sensation. Before she realized what she was doing, she began rocking her hips against his hand and pushing back to get him deeper. Chuckling, he pulled away, causing Figaro to whine in protest. He sauntered over to his chair at the head of the table and, after sitting down, patted his lap.

"Come here."

The maid had no other choice than to crawl across the table towards him. When she reached the end of it, her Master pulled her onto his lap and situated her so that she straddled him. Figaro wantonly rubbed herself against his thigh, no longer caring about dignity. Unable to help herself, she reached between them and grabbed Rumple through his leather pants. In an instant, she was on her back, laying on the table with Rumple standing over her and pinning her hands above her head.

"Good girls don't touch their Masters until given permission," he growled.

"Forgive me, Master," she whispered back.

"Forgiven. But!" he added quickly, sitting back down and spreading her legs further, "You're only allowed to touch yourself how I say. You'll make yourself come while I watch."

Figaro hesitated before sliding her hand down to her hot, wet. At her Master's command, she toyed with her clit, tweaking and stroking and squeezing, until he finally allowed her to slip a finger into herself. Still following Rumple's orders, she pushed it all the way in before pulling it out completely. She repeated this a countless number of times until she was quivering with sexual frustration. Smirking, Rumple finally gave her permission to do whatever she wanted to make herself come. Within seconds, his maid was moaning loudly while her walls squeezed her fingers.

"Good girl," he praised when she'd finally come down from her high, "Now it's my turn to make you come."


	4. Chapter 4

I walked into the shop five minutes early the next morning. My hair was clean and fell in loose waves down to my waist. The clothing Mr. Gold had given me and black, white, classy, and matched my special collar. As I walked in, Gold looked me over, faint approval on his face.

"Good girl," he praised before noticing my collar, "Where did you get that?"

"I-I don't remember."

"It should be here."

"I didn't steal it. I've had it for as long as I can remember."

"Well, why didn't you offer to sell it to keep your apartment? I would have paid a lot of money for that."

"It's special, so you can't have it," I snapped, "Why does it matter to you anyway?"

Gold glared back at me for a few seconds before turning towards the door.

"I'll be back later," he told me, "I have an errand to run. Keep an eye on the shop while I'm gone."

As he left, the door closed behind him with the ring of the bell. Once I was alone, I leaned back against the counter. Was it always this slow? I could have easily popped my feet up on the counter and taken a nap, but this whole thing was extremely generous. Gold was letting me keep my home, with additional comforts, just for working in his shop, and I wasn't going to freeload.

I began walking around, looking at the different items and trying to find something to do. After my quick round, I decided that the shelves were all considerably dusty. I took a quick trip to the mysterious back room to find a dust rag.

Going behind the front counter, I started dusting off every surface I could find. I dusted off the globes and boxes, the candle sticks and books, and every other strange, miscellaneous object I came across. I had my back to the door, behind the front counter when the bell rang.

"Gold?!" a cold voice echoed through the shop. I froze. Though I'd never met her face to face, I could recognize Regina's voice immediately.

"H-he's not here right now," I answered nervously, continuing to dust as a distraction. My breathing became uneven as I head the slow clicking of her heels approaching the front counter.

"I'm sorry. Who are you? I don't believe we've met."

"Katrina, but most people just call me Kat."

"Kat?" her voice came out almost in a whimper. Surprised at how human she sounded, I whirled around to face her. Her jaw dropped a little and her eyes widened. But she recovered quickly, forcing a smile, though her eyes glimmered with emotion.

"Why haven't we met before?" she asked conversationally. I shrugged.

"Well, Storybrooke is a very small town," she continued, "and I like to get to know the people who live here. Would you like to come over for dinner some time? It can be like a girls' night. I can have Henry sleep over a friend's."

"O-oh," I replied, "I wouldn't want to impose."

"I insist."

I hesitated a moment before nodding, "But at least let me bring something."

"How about you come over early and help me make dinner?" she proposed, sliding her business card across the counter to me.

"Alright," I agreed, smiling.

She nodded and smiled back as she turned to leave. Her hand was on the door knob when she turned back to me, her eyes still shining.

"That's a beautiful collar," she choked.

Then she was gone.

"Dearie, I need to talk to you," Rumple said, finding Figaro dusting in the drawing room.

"Please, Master," she replied, continuing to clean, "I'm not in the mood."

"No, it's not that."

Curious, she turned to face him, "Then what?"

"I-I think it's time you were promoted."

"To what?" she snarled, not liking the direction the conversation was taking.

"To the maid of a more important owner."

Figaro's lip twitched, "You're giving me away."

"No," he defended quickly, but then he paused, "Well…yes."

She rolled her eyes, fighting back tears.

"Why?" she choked, "Am I not meeting your standards?"

"If you weren't meeting my standards, why would I be giving you to someone whose standards will be higher? No, I'm simply giving you away because she needs you more than I do."

"S-she?"

"The queen."

"Queen Eva?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Come now, dearie, have you been living under a rock? Queen Eva died months ago. No, you've heard of the miller's daughter, correct? The one who married Prince Henry?"

"Cora?" she asked, heart racing. No, not her! She would be a terrible Mistress.

"Calm yourself. She, too, is no more."

"Then who?"

"Her daughter. Regina recently took Queen Eva's place by marrying King Leopold. She's very lonely."

"She just got married."

"She lost her mother and her _twu wuv_ in a matter of weeks. And she just married a man who couldn't care less about her with a daughter she despises. She needs a pet."

"I pet?! B-but I thought-."

"You thought wrong, dearie. Don't tell me you honestly enjoy being a maid. You're only doing this because I spoil you. I can assure you that your new Mistress will spoil you even more. And you won't have to do as much work."


	5. Chapter 5

"Where are you going tonight, dear?" Gold asked me as we were closing up shop.

"To a friend's house for dinner."

"A friend? Which friend is that? Because the last time I checked, you didn't have any friends."

"Regina."

"Mills? The mayor?"

"She came in the other day looking for you and invited me over for dinner."

"And you didn't tell me she came in because…?"

"She did say to tell you anything, and she didn't come back. I assumed she just ran into on the road."

"I don't want you to go to her house."

"I'm your employee, not your slave," I scoffed.

"Listen to me or we're done with our arrangement. Understood?"

I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off. To tell him that I would go even if he evicted me and took back the clothing he gave me. When I opened my mouth, I planned to say everything except for what came out.

"Yes, Sir."

Figaro sat across from Rumple in the carriage, twisting her fingers together. He'd let her wear a longer skirt for their outing, but her outfit was otherwise the same. Same frilly sleeves. Same tight corset that came dangerously close to making her breasts spill out. Just a different skirt.

"We're meeting her in the forest," Rumple broke the silence, "So, we'll be there shortly. Behave."

She nodded, drawing her eyes away from the window.

"What if she doesn't want me?"

"She won't. Not at first. She's too innocent. But stay with her no matter what. Serve her even when she tells you to leave. She needs you."

Figaro sighed as the carriage slowed to a halt. Other than her twisting hands, which Rumple pried apart as he pulled her outside, there was no indication that the girl was nervous. She stood straight with a blank expression as another woman walked up to them.

Figaro observed her through her dark lashes. This new woman had chocolaty hair pulled back into a braid. She had beautiful eyes that were filled with innocence. She wore brown, leather pants and a matching vest with a white blouse. Figaro raised one perfect eye brow. This was supposed to be her Mistress now?

"Hello!" she greeted, smiling and extending her hand to the girl. Immediately, she took it and kissed her knuckles, bending her knees in a small curtsy. But as soon as she stood back up, she dropped the hand and turned to Rumple with pleading eyes.

"Who is she?" the woman asked, causing the younger girl's head to snap back at her.

"I'm Figaro," she snarled, "Who are you?"

"Oh! I'm sorry, where are my manners? I'm Regina."

"This is your new pet, dearie," Rumple explained.

"My pet? I'm not sure…"

"Well, you have no choice in the matter. It's been decided. She is to stay with you and serve you."

The queen didn't answer, but studied her new pet.

"Well, then," Rumple continued, "now that's settled, we'll move onto today's lesson. Figaro, run ahead and find a unicorn."


	6. Chapter 6

With shaking hands, I dialed the number on the business card. I didn't want to do this, but Gold made his order very clear, and I couldn't get myself to disobey him. I was bound to my apartment, but I needed to at least tell her I couldn't make it

"Regina?" I asked once she picked up. Her name tasted strange on my tongue. It felt wrong to call her that, but it obviously wasn't. What else would I call her if not her name? Maybe something with more authority. She was the mayor, after all.

"Ma'am?" I corrected before she replied.

"Kat!" her voice came over the line.

"Yes, I'm sorry, but I can't make it tonight." As I spoke, I fingered my collar and replayed her compliment from a few days prior.

"Why not?" she asked coldly.

"Mr. Gold told me not to," I told her, but then realized how pathetic I sounded. I opened my mouth to elaborate. To tell her that he threatened to fire and evict me. But she cut me off.

"Ooh," she drawled as if everything suddenly made perfect sense, "Ok, well, I'm telling you to come over."

I whimpered. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

"B-but what about Mr. Gold?" I stammered.

"Think really hard about this, Kitty Kat. What is making you listen to him? Is he watching you? Would he know if you came over?"

"No," I admitted, "but he told me-."

"I just told you to come over, so you'd better come over."

Then she hung up, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I had to go, right? She just ordered me to, but what about Gold? He told me not to go, so I couldn't, right? The two commands pulled me in opposite directions. Tearing me apart. Go stay go stay go stay. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. Whose command do you want to follow?

Opening my eyes, I got off of my bed. I grabbed my new coat and left for the mayor's house.

"I-I can't do this!" Regina exclaimed, pacing back and forth while Figaro sat on the ground by the burning fireplace, "I have to let you go."

"No," the girl breathed when she realized what Regina was complaining about, "You can't set me free! I have nowhere to go! Master…Rumplestiltskin won't take me back. I have to stay with you!"

"But keeping a human pet is…unethical."

"So is kicking a girl out onto the streets!"

Figaro felt a lump in her throat. She'd lived her entire life feeling unwanted. When her mother ran away from her. When her father beat her until she was unconscious, spitting on her and telling her what a mistake she was and that she had always been unloved. When Rumple gave her away because he saw no more use for her. And now, as Regina was trying to also get rid of her. Nobody wanted her. She tried to hide her tears behind her anger, but her glimmering eyes didn't go unnoticed.

"I'm sorry," Regina said quickly, "You can live here. I'll provide you with food and clothing like Rumple did. But you can't be my pet."

"Too much power, your Majesty? I think that's part of the reason he gave me to you. So that you'd get used to having power," Figaro argued, standing up and walking to Regina.

"But I can't-."

"But you must! I'm your new pet now! That was the order so it's time to grow up and deal with it.

She sighed and looked away from the girl.

"Look," Figaro continued more gently this time, "I can't put myself in your shoes because I've never been in a position of power, but I shouldn't have nor do I want power! You're the motherfucking queen now! You need to have power, and you can practice with me. I want to be your pet."

Regina looked at her with uncertainty, but she might be right. A willing pet might be an easy way to get used to power. She opened her mouth to respond, but a little girl with black hair burst through the door.

"Stepmother!" she exclaimed, "Do you-?"

The child froze when she laid her wide eyes on Figaro.

"Who are you?" she asked in awe.

"My name is Figaro," she replied warmly with a smile, "I am your stepmother's new servant."

"I'm Snow White. You're beautiful," the child whispered, "You don't look like the other servants. You're just…darker, I guess. The other maids don't wear black. And you're eyes."

"Did you need something?" Regina cut in, trying not to snap.

"Yes, I…" the girl began before trailing off, "I forgot."

"Well, I'm a little busy talking to my…new servant, so could it wait until later?" she finished with a tight smile. Snow grinned, nodded, and skipped out of the room.

"You don't like her," Figaro stated once the child was out of earshot.

"It's not too obvious, is it?" the queen asked nervously.

"I know because Rumplestiltskin told me. I now see that it's true, but I don't think she noticed. What has she done to deserve your dislike?"

"She…" Regina sighed.

"You can tell me anything. I promise I won't repeat it to anyone else."

"Well, Snow is the reason my fiancé, my true love, is dead."

"Oh! I'm so sorry," Figaro comforted, grabbing her queen's hand, "Do you want to talk about him?"

Regina looked down and shook her head, squeezing her pet's hand.

"Not tonight. It's getting late."

"Yes, Mistress."


	7. Chapter 7

DING! DONG!

I'd felt so confident on my way over, but now, face to face with number one-oh-eight, I felt nervous all over again. I twisted my fingers together as the door swung open.

"You came," Regina said, smiling, "Good girl."

I smiled back and made a conscious effort to pull apart my hands as I stepped inside.

"You have a beautiful home, Ma'am," I complimented as she took my coat.

"Thank you. You're welcome over whenever you want."

"That's very generous considering we barely know each other."

I watched her tense as though the fact was physically painful for her, but she continued smiling.

"Do you want some apple cider?"

"Yes, please! I love apple cider!"

Her eyes lit up before she led me to her study and poured me a glass of the drink. As I took a sip, my tongue melted. I couldn't name the sensation, but it was like someone had forced my tongue into one of heaven's fountains.

"It's delicious. So, what are we making for dinner?"

"Whatever you'd like."

"Can we make lasagna? It's one of my favorite foods."

Figaro's orange dress draped over the window sill as she sat, looking out of Rumple's window. Even though Regina still didn't want her, and orange wasn't her color, being owned by the queen was a lot better than being owned by the Dark One. It was more comfortable, and the work was different. Definitely not easier, but different. And there was much more variety in her appearance each day.

As Rumple and Regina argued about why she wanted to learn magic, Figaro watched the air particles dance. She wanted to learn magic. Although, she'd probably sat through enough lessons to be able to do it on her own. Maybe she'd try when her Mistress was sleeping.

"Can you use magic to bring back people from the dead?" Regina asked Rumple.

Figaro glanced over. She was talking about her fiancé again. Daniel. Figaro often heard Regina cry out his name in her sleep. She'd be awakened by tossing and turning because, from the foot of the bed, she often got kicked when her Mistress grew restless in her sleep. Figaro was used to being beaten by her father, so she was never harmed, it was just annoying. She would just move to the other side of the bed or curl up in front of the fire on really bad nights. Once, Figaro had to wake up her Mistress because she feared she'd hurt herself with all the thrashing.

"Magic can do much, dearie, but nothat," her former Master replied.

The girl sighed and went back to staring out the window. No one even knew she was there. No one cared about her. Rumple didn't want her. Regina didn't want her. If she fell through the thin window pane to her death, no one would even notice. _Try it_, the voices in her head whispered. Try it try it try it try it try it.

But then, she felt a hand on her head, smoothing her hair. She flinched and turned her wide eyes up towards her Mistress. She wasn't looking back at her, of course, but she was acknowledging her presence…in an affectionate way nonetheless. She felt herself smile.

Rumple was ignoring both of them now, concerned with his new company. Figaro would have asked who this new man was, but before the session had started, Rumple had ordered her not to speak. But the man with the silly hat would lead Regina to a lost dream and Figaro to a new nightmare.


	8. Chapter 8

After my fourth glass of apple cider, things began to get blurry. I laughed a lot, and my words made less and less sense. Regina didn't get drunk as I did. Maybe she didn't have as much to drink as I did, or maybe I was just too much of a light weight. In my defense, I hadn't had anything to drink since…I didn't remember, but I knew that I hadn't had extra money to buy alcohol with for a very long time. The apple cider was a long-forgotten treat. I never specifically remembered having it, but it was certainly my favorite.

After lasagna, also my favorite for no real reason I could remember, we agreed on making dessert. I vaguely recalled discussing chocolate pizza and apple turnovers. I was given the decision, but I could choose between them. So we made both.

I was on my seventh glass when Regina finally cut me off. She told me that I'd had enough, but it was too late. I was wasted, and she only seemed to play along with my goofiness. Somehow, a little while later, we both laid on the counter, covered with flour and chocolate.

Now, I was awoken by the harsh sound of Mr. Gold's voice. I tried to open my eyes, but the little sunlight in the room forced them closed again.

"Why is she caked with chocolate?" he demanded, "And she should have been at work hours ago! This is why I didn't want her to come over here."

"We both know that's not true," Regina argued, her voice dropping to a whisper, "You're trying to keep her away from me for a much larger reason."

"I'm sorry, dear. I don't know what you're talking about." I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Bull shit!"

I opened my eyes and sat up, groaning at the light and the immediate headache. Suddenly, both Gold and Regina were standing over me. Regina opened her mouth to say something, but Gold was already hauling me to my feet.

"Stupid girl!" he scolded, "I told you not to come over here!"

"You don't own her, Gold," Regina defended, "And if you won't treat her right, then she can work for me."

"I don't want to fire her. I want her to stay away from you!"

"Why?" Regina laughed. Gold glared back at her but said nothing. "Exactly," she continued before turning to me, "Whenever you want, you can have a job as my personal assistant."

My eyes widened and I opened my mouth to thank her, but before I could speak, Gold grabbed me by the arm and pulled me from the room.

"We're leaving. Good day, Regina."

"Mistress, tell me about him," Figaro pleaded as she stood over Daniel.

"I-I can't."

The mad hatter, the man who'd been in Rumple's castle a few days prior, had just left with the doctor he'd brought to bring back the stable boy. The plan was that the four of them would meet later to obtain a heart.

"You can," the girl insisted, touching her owner's forearm. Regina took a deep breath.

"We were going to run away together, but Snow told my mother. She found us and…and," she paused as tears began to slide down her cheeks, "She ripped out his heart and crushed it right in front of me. She killed him."

Hesitantly, Figaro wiped a few tears from Regina's face.

"Look on the bright side. If you'd run away with Daniel, you wouldn't have met Rumplestiltskin or learned magic. And you wouldn't have met me."

"Oh no. What would I do without you?" she said sarcastically. Figaro's eyebrows furrowed as she brought back tears. She really wanted to believe that the queen at least cared about her, but obviously she didn't.

"I-I didn't m-," Regina started to apologize, but Figaro held out a hand to stop her. She fell silent for a few seconds before clearing her throat and changing the subject, "Umm…tell me about how you met Rumple."

"I ran away from my father because he often beat me. I ended up at the Dark One's door, and he made a deal with me to take care of me as long as I did whatever he commanded. And he commanded me to obey you. That's why I'm here. Not because I want to be. I'm here because I promised to obey him, and I don't break my promises. I don't like you anymore than you like me, Mistress," she spat. It was a lie, of course, but the queen had no way of knowing that. Figaro sighed, "Let's go get your stupid heart so we can bring back somebody you actually want to be with."


End file.
